Does anyone read these?  Because I feel like this is more of a diary than anything else.  Which is okay.  It helps me have a place to pour things out and organize my thoughts.

Today I went and got my Upper GI with double contrast.  First time I've had that test, and hopefully, the last.  Actually, it wasn't THAT bad.  But barium isn't exactly pleasant stuff to drink.  But the results were good - everything was fine.  That's my LAST test for pre-qualifying.  I have to meet with my primary care doc for surgical clearance, and then my bariatric surgeon can turn everything over to the insurance company for review/approval.

Today brought a new wave of feelings as I sat in the little waiting room with my gown on for 40 minutes, alone.  All this time since I've had my conversation with my bariatric surgeon the very first time, this surgery has been more of a fantasy.  I've had eight surgeries of various types so far between the ages of 21 and 46, and I know that I handle them well.  I'm less afraid of surgery than anyone I know, and unafraid to take risks to make huge, quality of life decisions for myself.  I'm proud of that.  That doesn't mean, however, that I'm just hunkey-dorey about surgeries - they still scare me a tad bit - mostly for the pain associated with them.  When I think of the downside of having a surgery done, it always starts with thinking about the morning of surgery, and checking in to get prepped for surgery.  GOD I HATE that.  I hate the millions of questions, the constant verifying that yes, I am who I say I am, the cold room, the stupid garb, my husband looking kind of scared and yet bored, and most of all, GETTING THE IV PUT IN.  GOD I hate that part!  Like,.... I think I hate the IV placement worse than surgery.  I also hate the dry, dry mouth that comes after I wake up.  Usually they're encouraging me to drink, drink, drink.  Not sure that this time will be the same.

This time though, it's a bit different.  You see, all the other surgeries I've had were also elective.  And like this one, they gave the promise of a better life.  Some were little - clean-up of my knee, a bladder sling, and a tubal sterilization procedure.  I say little because there wasn't THAT much pain associated with it.  Two of those practically felt like I never had anything done.  A few others were really large surgeries - a knee reconstruction, a complete knee replacement, and a tummy tuck/breast reduction.  The knees HAD to be done - I couldn't walk anymore.  So I wasn't worried about making a decision that I'd regret in any way.  The tummy tuck / breast reduction was long anticipated, and I trusted my surgeon exquisitely - I wasn't worried that the job would be botched.  I did have large complications from that which made healing much more challenging, but I got over it.  THIS surgery though - this surgery is different than all of those.  Those made me look better, function better, be in less pain.  This can also do all those things.  But this is the only one that requires me to make a lifestyle commitment.  And I am trying to get my head around that.  I mean, if I'm just fine with committing to a low carb, low fat, high protein diet with portion control, I don't need a surgery to do that, right?  So,... what's going to change just because I can't put much in my stomach?  I know the portion control will pretty much handle itself.  So that's good.  But craving the foods won't change ONE.BIT, with this surgery.  So, what, exactly, am I committing to?  I think it's a fresh start.  It's a forced way of staying committed.  It's almost like saying, "I swear I'm so committed to not using my right arm that you may as well cut it off - because I don't plan on ever using it again.  It being gone will only help me stay committed to that."

I have made no lifestyle changes this entire time that I've jumped through all the pre-surgery hurdles.  Not.One.Iota.  Because I feel like I'm holding onto the right to eat the way I want right now - because that'll be gone soon.  That thought both scares and excites me.  Excites me because I don't want this big body as my shell anymore.  But scares me because I already know I'm no good at eating the way I should in order to lose weight.  So this isn't a magic bullet - I'm still going to WANT to eat the way I do now.  But I won't have the luxury of ever doing so again.  Maybe I'm looking at it the wrong way.  I'm sure tomorrow will bring new realizations.